I’m anxious all over again about tracking down Patrick and telling him. He needs to at least know she exists. She’s already two months old.
Nerves eat at me as I place her in her capsule and make my way out to my car.
“It’s good to see you out and about,” Gran calls from the doorway.
“I’m going to Auckland. I have to find him.”
She walks toward the car and waits as I clip Sophie in and close the door.
“Are you sure about this?”
I shrug. “I have no idea, but it’s eating me up.”
“Maybe you should wait until things have settled down.”
I know she means well, but I need to do this.
Sophie needs her father—although, what do I do if he rejects her?
Tears well in my eyes. “Maybe, but I want to try.”
She takes my hand in hers. “Then I hope things work out the way you need them to. I’ll be here when you come back.”
I swallow hard. No matter what happens, Gran has my back. She’s all the family I have left.
Closing my eyes, I let her pull me into her arms.
It’s probably not a good idea to go when I’m so up and down, but I think Gran understands I have to get this out of my system. Even some time away from the house would be good.
“Drive safe,” she whispers.
I nod. There’s no way I’ll take any risks with Sophie in the car. I struggle with the fact that my parents will never know their granddaughter, and she’s the most precious person in my life along with Gran.
She always has to come first.
And whether she has her father in her life or not, I’ll always be there for her.
I climb into the driver’s seat and take a deep breath before starting the car.
“Let’s go for a drive, baby girl.”
It’s not a long drive—about an hour and a half with a break in the middle to feed Sophie, but Auckland always intimidates me.
Hamilton is bigger and busier than Hastings is, but Auckland is on a whole other level.
We used to come up here on family trips to go to the zoo and do other sightseeing, and driving here myself is a new adventure.
I have no real idea where I’m going.
Maybe this is insane.
I lost my mobile phone in the car accident, and Gran replaced it for me. I didn’t complain about the change in number—she did it while I was in hospital so she could call me when she wasn’t there. But I’ve also lost all my contacts, and I didn’t memorise any of the numbers.
Patrick’s parents aren’t in the white pages—I tried looking them up. And I don’t know where they moved to.
The only way this is going to work is if I go to the university and pray for the best.
Once I’m off the motorway, I slow and make my way closer to the medical school.
